Not Entirely Human
by MadderthanaboxofFrogs
Summary: Takes place in the present. A 400 year old half-elf princess is, once again, a freshman in college. Her 10th college. Her European History professor doesn't seem quite normal to her... And she doesn't seem normal to him. Rated M for later chapters.DracXoc
1. Allow me to Introduce Myself

**I OWN NOTHING... except Rayvenna and some other characters... I wish I owned Vladi...**

Dracula: Never call me that again...

**What are you gonna do to stop me, hmmm? You're in MY world now, Count.**

Dracula: Oh for Lucifer's sake...

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Before I begin my tale, I would like to tell you a bit about myself. My name is Rayvenna Erdolliel, and I am a half-elf. I am 419 years old and the daughter of Lord Arlon Erdolliel, king of the Irish elves. If a normal person were to look upon me, they would assume I was around the age of 20. My mother died a long time ago, leaving me with very little to no memory of her. My father always told me that she was the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes upon. I was raised in Ireland until I reached the age of 300, at which time I travelled to America to start my own life. I moved around a great deal because I hardly ever aged. Those around me would take notice. At the present time, I lived in the rather boring state of Ohio. My name changed every time I moved, so with this new place, I took the name of Darcy Hoffman. The name Darcy was Irish Gaelic for "darkness," which suited my personality perfectly.

On that topic, I am fond of a mixture of modern "gothic" and old Gothic clothing. I have shoulder-length brown hair, forest green eyes (with thick rimmed glasses), and slightly pointed ears, each ear with two piercings. I'm about five foot three and 138 pounds. My father always said I was a perfect mixture of my beautiful mother and his wise self. Usually, I wear black or red clothing with black eye shadow and black eye liner. My musical tastes varied- but I absolutely could not STAND country or rap.

Well, now that we have introductions aside, I shall tell you my tale.


	2. My first day of Classes

I sighed to myself as I walked through the corridors of yet another college. After about 400 years of wisdom, existence, and experience behind me, it was still hard to fit in with the college crowd. But it was still my favorite time in life to relive. Freedom, the search of knowledge, and the time of discovery. This was the tenth college I'd attended and my major this time was History.

My attire for today was black boots, fishnet leggings, a red plaid miniskirt with chains on each hip, a black t-shirt button down blouse with a blood red necktie, fingerless gloves, and a studded choker. My hair hung freely and my eyes were covered in my usual makeup.

The first day of classes was always fun. I loved meeting new professors. I never made many friends and never took to having a boyfriend. The whole immortality thing really sucked sometimes. It meant that I couldn't get attached to anyone. It was a hard fact that I had faced many years ago, and eventually got over it.

I had a total of 6 classes this semester. Three classes were on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The others were on Tuesday and Thursday. My classes for this Monday were as follows: American Sign Language 1 at 9am, American History at 10:15am, and finally European History at 12:30. The only class that had a professor listed was my European History class. The others were blank, so I looked forward to meeting them. I knew I would thoroughly enjoy the first and last classes. I found sign language to be a beautiful art and I simply adored the Medieval period.

I walked into my first class five minutes before it began. My professor's name was Anne. She was a wonderfully nice woman and was deaf, but could read lips extremely well. As usual, the students around me signed "nice to meet you" incorrectly, instead signing "nice to fuck you." Anne and I giggled and she corrected them. The class flew by and before I knew it, I was on my way to American History class. The professor's name was John, but he instructed us to call him Maeglin. I chuckled at his nickname, obviously taken from a Tolkien story. The class flew by in much of the same manner as the first.

European History began 30 minutes after the end of American History, so I took the liberty to explore the campus while I made my way to my last class. I took mental notes on where all the student services offices and food courts were, as well as all the libraries. I slipped on my headphones as I strolled along the path to my class, turning on my iPod and shaking it gently to shuffle the songs. The song _The Thirst is Taking Over_ by the band Skillet greeted my ears. It was incredibly soothing and at the same time, exhilarating. I pulled out my class schedule sheet as I walked along. The professor listed for my European History class was named as Vladimir Dragislaus. It was an interesting name, to be sure. And a wonderfully Slavic name. I smiled as I walked through the doors of my final class. I took my seat at the back of the classroom in the corner closest to the door, setting my backpack on the floor next to my chair. I was the first in the room, being only 10 minutes early. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a fresh notebook for the class. The other students started filing into the room as I began doodling on the inside front cover. I took off my headphones and slipped them into the front pocket of my backpack, turning off my ipod before zipping the pocket closed. The clock on the wall read 12:30- time for the class to begin. Yet, the professor was nowhere to be seen. The class began chattering about the professor's absence. Here's an excerpt from a nearby conversation:

"Dude! Where's the prof?" "I dunno man. This guy sounds weird. Could you pronounce his name?" "Now way dude! I can't even read it!" I giggled to myself at all the banter about the mysterious instructor. The classroom door swung open violently, causing a sudden silence to fall over the room. Every head in the class turned to see what, or who, had caused the disturbance.

"Alright class. I apologize for my tardiness. I assure you that it will not happen again." The voice was deep and rich with a heavy Romanian accent hanging upon each word. The man that entered the room immediately held my undivided attention. He was, in every sense of the phrase, tall, dark and handsome. He was lean and pale, his long, dark brown hair pulled up into a pony tail. Only a few stray strands of his hair fell gracefully around his face. His eyes were a dark shade of grey-blue. He wore black slacks with black boots, a black waistcoat over a black button-down and a black cloak. He had a small, silver hoop in each ear lobe, giving him an air of danger and rebellion. He set his briefcase down onto the desk before unhooking his cloak to set on the chair behind his desk. He then faced the entire class, clasping his hands behind his back. I absolutely loved his attire and thought him to be around the age of 30. He was gorgeous. All the other students giggled and chuckled childishly at the professor's choice in clothing. To me, he looked like a count. "My name is Vladimir Dragislaus, but you will address me as professor Vlad." He looked over the class with an amused smirk, a knowing glint within his eyes. Then his eyes met mine. It was as if he was looking into my very soul. I saw a huge black emotional and mental wall behind his gaze. He smiled at me as I smirked at him. He was captivating, drawing me into his dark, blissful abyss. I blinked and sat back into my chair, crossing my arms defiantly. It was then that I knew that my professor, Vladimir Dragislaus, was not entirely human.

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**Hope you enjoyed my first chappy!**

Dracula: I know I did.

**Lol. I knew you would, silly. XP**

Dracula: When does the good steamy stuff come in?

**I'm not telling you, perv!**

Dracula: *being seductive, rubbing authoress' shoulders* You know you want to write it...

**O_O... i'm going i'm going... LOL. it won't be for a while.**


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